


this small, rare peace

by softagenda (cricketbone)



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Conspiracy, Established Relationship, F/M, Married Couple, Pregnancy, Self-Defense, Self-Indulgent, diplomatic mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricketbone/pseuds/softagenda
Summary: While on a diplomatic mission in Kyoto, Chizuru must protect herself and her unborn child against assassins wishing to deter the tentative armistice between the shogunate forces and the Satsuma.
Relationships: Kazama Chikage/Yukimura Chizuru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	this small, rare peace

There was little Toshizo hated more than diplomatic arrangements.

The feared Commander of the Shinsengumi, oft called the Demon Commander by some, was meant to the war room and the battlefield, for strategic advances, division of manpower, and diving headlong into the thick of blood, sweat, steel, and bodies piled on the sodden ground. He was not meant for a quiet and neutral space around a table whose partners were equidistant apart, conniving over cups of lukewarm tea as smiling diplomats spun velvet words around the negotiations with the tension sitting on a knife’s edge.

This was Kondo’s job, and one that he excelled with. Principled but empathetic, stern but gentle, the Chief of the Shinsengumi approached every table with compassion, intelligence, and genuine intentions. The strength of his sincerity was typically more than enough to accrue good will from a variety of corners and, matched with Sannan’s cunning tactical mind, had turned many a tide of fortune for the Shinsengumi.

Toshizo would readily admit that his talents laid elsewhere. His temper, not easily stoked, burned hot when it flared, and few who had earned his scorn and the whip of his tongue forgot it quickly. He was more than happy to let Kondo and Sannan handle relations with neighboring companies and the domain leadership, and both men agreed that it was usually for the best, Kondo with fond sheepishness, Sannan with a kind of weary exasperation.

Despite this mutual agreement, there were still situations in which it could not be avoided.

Stone-faced, he sat across from a delegation of the Satsuma clan, his hands tucked into his sleeves. Kondo, to his left, smiled in welcome at the three men opposite the room and gestured to their trays. “Be welcome to our headquarters. Please, enjoy yourselves.”

The man in the middle, Kazama Chikage, with hair the color of autumn straw and eyes like blood, sneered faintly.

Toshizo bared his teeth in what might have been a smile on a better man. “You got a problem with the meal?”

“Toshi,” murmured Kondo.

Kazama’s mouth twisted into a smirk, biting words clearly on the tip of his tongue.

“Thank you most appreciatively for the meal,” a deep voice interrupted. Amagiri bowed over his tray and began to eat with polite nonchalance. His words had a purposeful tone that seemed to stall Kazama from further remarks.

“Thank you for the meal,” he added with surprising grace.

“You’re most welcome.” Kondo offered another sunny smile and set about his meal with familiar gusto. As he took a drink from his tea, he shot a look of remonstration at Toshizo, who looked away.

After a short silence had passed, Sannan spoke from Kondo’s other side. “I must admit that we were surprised by the invitation to meet with representatives of the Satsuma clan, given the current state of our relations,” he mused, his words light even as his eyes scrutinized the other men. “This is certainly a new development between our respective leadership.”

Toshizo just barely hid a grimace. He almost preferred the Satsuma’s previous method of pouring out of unexpected pathways and attempting to shove a sword through his gut.

“That is, of course, not to say that we are not open to a peaceful resolution,” added Kondo earnestly. “If we could in any way assist the shogunate in resolving this conflict without war, then the Shinsengumi will swear by it.”

“We are here merely to convey the time and location for the official meeting,” replied Amagiri with a stoic mien. “Our mission was to engage and measure the interests of the shogunate and their allies in an exchange of proposed terms for the alliance. You have expressed interest. In that case, we need not linger after this.”

Thank the gods, Toshi thought. Though it was notable that the Satsuma leadership would send the demons Kazama and Amagiri, irascible and resolutely uninterested in human affairs, to gauge the willingness of the enemy for a truce. Perhaps they felt the demons were more likely to survive a trap. Or that they were powerful but dangerous allies and therefore expendable if necessary.

That they had remained for a unifying meal with the Shinsengumi spoke volumes for the solemnity of the negotiation. Had they intended to break the tentative truce and attempt to kill Kondo, he doubted they would bother with platitudes and ceremony.

The afternoon meal progressed relatively peacefully, if poised on the edge of a sword. With both Toshizo and Kazama unenthusiastically bearing with the situation, Kondo and Sannan were left to pull stilted conversation from Amagiri, who participated just enough to be appropriate.

Finally, they had reached the end, with a round of sake to seal the meal.

“Not bad,” murmured Kazam, tipping his cup in soft swirls as the sake in the well caught the sunlight.

“I’m pleased you are enjoying the sake,” Kondo beamed. “We acquired this particular supply from a traveling merchant last spring. He was an unusual man but an unparalleled tradesman. We were sorely tempted to clean out his stock after a taste.”

His red gaze surveyed Kondo for a moment before a smirk grew on his thin lips. Though Toshizo still felt his hackles rise, this one had much less mockery than the last. “Is that so. Do you remember the merchant’s name?”

“We would need to review our records,” Sannan said smoothly, “but we would be happy to find that information for you.”

“Hmm.”

Seemingly more at ease than before, Kazama gave a slight nod. He tipped his glass back, and a gleam of satisfaction was visible in his eyes.

“If I may, as you seem to be a man with a taste for unique sake, I would be interested to hear more about sake within your culture. Do your villages produce sake, or do you visit markets of nearby towns to maintain your stock?” Kondo asked.

Kazama stared at him, considering. Toshizo expected the demon to ignore the question, as he had all other attempts to learn more about the villages and societies of the demon clans.

To his surprise, the demon said in a low, hesitant tone, “Some villages, yes. There are few masters to spare, however. For variety, we must travel to the markets of humans.” A slow smirk spread across his face. “Though they are few in number, their talents far surpasses most human masters.”

“Truly? I would be interested to see for myself, if that is the case,” Kondo replied with a warm laugh.

Toshizo watched, alarm growing in the pit of his stomach, as the demon once again measured Kondo with his gaze before replying softly, “That could be arranged.”

Amagiri blinked and turned toward the other demon, as though this once in a lifetime offer were enough to break the solid stone of his demeanor.

Kondo himself looked flushed with delighted surprise, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping, before he beamed at the other man. “It would be an honor and a pleasure, Kazama. Perhaps once this conflict has been settled--”

The cries of several men broke through Kondo’s words. Toshizo turned his head and followed the voices as they approached, breathless and disgruntled as though chasing a thief along the wall. He sprang to his feet and slid the screen to the courtyard open.

A man with tanned skin and spiraling tattoos had vaulted over the wall of their headquarters. As though vanishing into a shadow, the familiar face of Shiranui appeared on the porch, his violet gaze pinned to Kazama.

“The hell do you think you’re--” Toshizo growled, but he was interrupted.

“They attacked the inn.”

The sake glass in Kazama’s hand dropped down onto his tray with a hard chink! He stared down Shiranui with a fury unlike any Toshizo had seen from him before, even in the heat of battle. “ _Chizuru_?”

Shiranui’s expression twisted into a grimace. “I got her through the escape route as planned, but the owners must have been taken in. They had hired swords hiding in the neighboring rooms. I told her to not to wait for me.”

In a movement of sharp grace, Kazama rose to his feet and prepared to leave the room, when Kondo spoke up.

“It appears something serious has occurred. What’s this about an attack on your residence?”

The demon appeared ready to ignore the question and storm from the room, when Amagiri answered, “Certain clans have disagreed with the decision to seek an armistice between the Satsuma and the shogunate. They have attempted to thwart our presence in Kyoto in order to kill the messenger.”

“And this ‘Chizuru’?” Toshizo questioned him quickly, striding after the demons as they stepped out onto the porch and into the courtyard.

Kazama glared venomously over his shoulder before flickering out of sight, as though he were a particularly vicious ghost. Shiranui followed suit, a grim look in his eyes.

Amagiri paused by the pond and answered, “The last remaining member of the Yukimura clan, as well as the wife of Lord Kazama.”

Aware that there was little time to spare on the idea that the fierce and recalcitrant demon had actually found a woman to marry him, Toshizo set aside the urge to balk and shared a look with Kondo, who nodded fiercely. “The Shinsengumi will help you look. What features should we be looking for in this woman?”

Amagiri stared at them for another long moment before he sighed. “She has dark eyes and hair, tied back with a white ribbon. She’s of a small stature. I believe she was wearing a blue yukata this morning. In addition…”

Toshizo shifted slightly with impatience. “What?”

“She’s with child.”

* * *

She couldn’t breathe.

Pressed against the side of a tea shop, Chizuru shook with adrenaline and gasped for breath. Sweat poured from her brow and soaked into her clothes. The sounds of the street carried on behind her position in the shadows, the usual bustle of a busy market day. Few had cared to give her a second look as she sprinted through the crowd and hurtled into the alley.

Her arms wrapped around her round stomach gently, fearfully.

Chizuru was no stranger to sudden ambushes. As the young wife of a demon lord and a perceived weakness through her gender and ignorance of demon cultures and customs, she had seen through a fair share of attempted coups and assassination attempts from demon and human conspirators alike. Three years into their marriage, she had killed five people. Two men when they had attacked her and Sen while walking through the Yase clan gardens. Another, when she had slit the throat of a woman who had attempted to assassinate her in her bed while Kazama had attended a meeting of the clans.

This, however, was her first encounter with quite so many assailants while on her own. The first while she was pregnant.

They had aimed for her stomach. Where her child, innocent and precious, grew with every day.

Two more had joined the score that day, when they’d cornered her and Shiranui just outside of the inn’s kitchen. She’d used the meat cleaver on the counter, and though she would probably never forget the sound of the coarse blade lodging thick and deep into the man’s neck, she couldn’t say she regretted it.

She would kill a thousand more if it meant her child would be safe.

A rage she had never experienced before had overcome her, the moment she had seen the knife spiral through the air toward her. Her vision had sharpened as her blood raced beneath her skin. An unknown strength had surged into her body, bolstering her meager muscles and tuning her reflexes, enough so that she could pluck the knife out of the air as though it were a children’s toy and flick it back with deadly precision.

Shiranui had a second to look surprised before he had pushed her toward the back door and told her to run toward the market.

She had shoved through the crowd without direction, desperation pounding a staccato rhythm in her chest and removing all other concerns. Casual passersby had grunted, had shouted scolding remarks at her back. Chizuru had born it all without a care, arms supporting her stomach as she sprinted through the market until she was forced to stop or pass out by the side of the street.

They hadn't anticipated that the shadows dogging their journey to Kyoto would dare attack in the daylight. That certainty had tricked them into lowering their guard, enough so that Chikage had left her at the inn while he attended to his diplomatic mission from the Satsuma, with Shiranui as her guard. Though he was an impressive warrior, they'd had the advantage of numbers and terrain.

Chizuru shuffled further down the alley and slowly lowered herself to the ground. Her legs shook with tension. A tight sensation pulled around her hips where her skin was unused to being tugged so harshly - she had never needed to run so quickly while pregnant.

Around her, the city continued to amble through its daily duties. The crowd was a whirling, shifting mass of bodies laughing, bartering, catching up with old acquaintances. Somewhere amongst that mass, the hired men were searching for her. She had to keep going.

She had to find Chikage.

Steeling herself, Chizuru took several bracing breaths before she grabbed the paneling of the business and pulled herself to her feet. A shadow danced paused on the wall next to her, before a man shouted, "Here!"

Her heart stopped.

Three men appeared in the mouth of the alley, swords strapped to their hips. Hasty masks had been tied around nose and mouth to hide their faces, but a greedy, satisfied look was visible in their eyes. "Found you, demon woman."

Chizuru sucked in a gasp and looked around the alley for an escape route. The walls curved slightly to her right but ended with a storage shed. She could hide inside if the shed was unlocked, but it could only stall the men from their purpose. Still, there were precious few other options.

Biting her lip, she shot up from the wall and sprinted down the alley. Behind her, she heard the slick grind of iron sliding from a scabbard, the curses of the men as they squeezed into the narrow path.

The shed door shook with a rattling crash as she forced the door open and ducked inside. For a panicked moment, she feared that it could not be locked from the inside. Then, she noticed the hay fork propped against the corner. Heedless of the grime and cobwebs covering the handle, Chizuru grabbed the form and lodged the spears through the handle and into the wooden frame.

Fierce, protective fury once again lended an unusual strength to her. The spikes lodged deep into the wood until the prong on the end broke out of the back of the frame. She leaned her body against the door and held on as a moment later, the men grabbed the outside handle and tried to pull the door open.

"Shit! She's locked inside." The door shook viciously, the frame battered against the rest of the small structure. Chizuru watched the frame shake and felt a cold weight sink into her stomach. It couldn't hold for long.

"Idiot! It's a shed, just force the door down."

"What if we set fire to it? That'd take care of the demon all the same."

"We're trying to avoid detection - starting a fire outside the market will draw attention."

"Hey, woman." A man said quietly, hovering beyond the slight opening in the frame. "Make this easier on yourself and come out quietly. You're not coming out of this alive. This shed's a strong breeze from toppling over." His voice drew low and breathless. "Wouldn't a nice, clean cut from my sword be preferable to getting crushed by this piece of crap shed? Hmm?"

He sounded excited at the prospect, a sick anticipation in his tone. Chizuru shuddered and held on tight to the handle of the spear, refusing to respond.

"Fine, have it your way," he sighed, and a fist pounded on the side of the shed barely inches away from her face. "Knock it down. Let the bitch's mate find her as a smear of blood and trash at the back of this alley."

Chizuru sucked in a breath, sweat dripping down her back.

Then, with a bang that would wake the dead, the men threw themselves against the side of the shed.

The structure groaned and shuddered under the assault, withered planks splintering and cracking in the middle. She searched around in the dark desperately for something she could use to support the wall when one of the wooden panels cracked open and a beam of light poured into the shed. A man's eye appeared inside, swiveling until it spotted her in the shadows.

Chizuru screamed.

"She's here! She's-- _unnf_!"

The eye disappeared. A second later, she heard the shuffling of sandals on the ground and the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground yards away.

"Mind sharing what's going on here?" Another voice interrupted, smooth and light with hidden laughter. "I doubt the owner of this fabric store will be pleased to see what's become of his storage shed

"What the--who the fuck are you?" A man shouted, as a sword slid from its scabbard.

"That haori," sneered another, the same as the one who had whispered threats into the shed. "Shinsengumi dog."

"Tenth captain, Harada Sanosuke. Not sure I'm all that pleased to make your acquaintance!"

Chizuru slowly rose from her crouch by the door and tried to peer through the crack in the frame. She could see just a glimpse of the aforementioned haori, sky blue and fluttering in the air as the man himself spun into motion. The slick sound of a blade slicing flesh split the muffled fight, and someone howled in pain.

"You two, go get that damn woman! I'll keep this one busy."

Footsteps scurried across the ground, growing closer. Chizuru grabbed ahold of the hay fork again and clenched her jaw. Once more, the door began to rattle and shake on its hinges as the rogues on the otherside attempted to force it open to get to her.

"Woman?" The Shinsengumi captain, Harada, called out over the fight. "Have you chased a woman into that shed? Why, can't think of a better way to get her attention? Pathetic." That derision was followed closely with the whirl of a spear and a grunt of pain. "If you can hear me in there, hold on a moment more - I'm coming."

Her whole body shaking in time with the hay fork, pressed as a desperate support against the door, Chizuru shouted, "Please help me!"

"On it!"

A Shinsengumi captain. What curious luck she had today, Chizuru thought quickly. Though she had heard only rumors of the samurai company in Kyoto, both feared and respected throughout the region, she knew them to be men of honor. Chikage himself had spoken of them with his typical mocking amusement, though he had not noticed the way his voice lacked its usual bite when he criticized the state of human affairs.

It had been the Shinsengumi that he had gone to meet with that morning on behalf of the Satsuma clan.

If he was truly a Shinsengumi captain, then he could take her directly to their headquarters, to where Chikage and Amagiri--and Shiranui, hopefully-- were.

Chizuru felt tears sting the corners of her eyes as she fought back a sob of relief. Her hands shook on the handle, adrenaline still pounding through her veins with the racing of her heart but she could feel the preternatural strength fading from her body.

Outside, the battering on the shed suddenly stopped. The men drew their swords, shouting battle cries as they engaged the Shinsengumi captain - only to quickly gasp in pain. Chizuru approached the cracked opening in the wall and peaked out.

The man in the blue haori had herded the remaining assailants against the opposite corner of the alley with a rain of deadly stabs with his spear. He was tall, almost as tall as Shiranui, with a shock of dark red hair that danced wildly behind him. He grinned, a savage and satisfying thing with teeth, before he asked, "Any last words?"

"Go to hell, shogunate dog," screamed one of the rogue swordsmen before swinging his blade with abandon.

With a move as fluid and graceful as water, Harada swiped the stem of his spear along the sword and sent the weapon flying behind him. Disarmed and vengeful, the rogue ran at him with his fists held out - only to be stopped in his tracks as a spear punched through his chest. Chizuru gulped, apprehensive, as the man gurgled blood for a long moment until Harada yanked his spear from his body and swiftly sliced the throat of the other man, who'd snuck up on him and swung at his back.

Their bodies fell to the ground with a crash. The sounds of wet, shuddering gasps sent chills down Chizuru's back, but she felt relieved down to her bones as their death rattles faded.

After a moment, a deep sigh filled the silence, followed by the slight scuffle of footsteps. Chizuru hurriedly stepped back and wrapped her hands around the hay fork, unsure.

The Shinsengumi captain knocked on the door softly, as though this were a guest's house rather than a ramshackle storage shade used as hasty shelter. "Hey, you all right in there? It's safe to come out," he said kindly, "I know you must be scared - I promise to get you home safe."

She hesitated. "...are you truly with the Shinsengumi?"

"Yeah, I am," he replied, and his voice was now a mixture of pride and caution, as though he were a man who had seen both praise and ruin for his reputation. "On my honor, I would never hurt a woman."

Chizuru closed her eyes and placed a hand on her stomach. She couldn't rely on that sudden surge of strength to save her again, should he prove to be dangerous. Already, exhaustion was sinking into her back and legs, and all she wanted in the world was to fall into Chikage's warm embrace and feel safe once more.

"Okay," she whispered, before pulling the hay fork out of the wall with her remaining strength.

When she nudged the door open, Harada had moved back a couple paces as though to give her space. She cleared her throat nervously and brushed her hair back from her sweaty cheeks. "Thank you," she said tremulously, trying for a smile, "for saving us."

Harada opened his mouth to respond before he glanced down, his gaze narrowing and then widening on her round stomach. He seemed to struggle for what to say, his brow furrowing, before he shot a bewildered but furious look at the three corpses on the ground. "Are you all right, miss? Are you injured?"

"No, I don't think so." She brushed her hands down the front of her kimono. Dust had congealed onto the hem of her kimono. She could feel the sweat beading down her back and neck, thick enough that her loose hair stuck to the fabric. Strangely, she didn't feel the need to blush in embarrassment at her appearance. Instead, something like pride glowed in her chest, a kind of brutal satisfaction - that she was alive, that she had fought and killed to protect them, and she had survived.

Her hands fisted against her sides. Her nails cut into her palms, and yet she felt no pain.

"Still, we'd better get you to a safer place," said Harada, visibly concerned as he carefully approached and placed a ginger hand on her shoulder. "You've had quite a morning, miss. Can you walk? I can carry you if necessary."

She cringed slightly away, her instincts still on alert, and felt immediately guilty when Harada's hand jerked back. "I'm sorry," she rushed to say, offering a wobbly smile. "I'm still a little....I think I can walk, but I appreciate the offer. Truly."

"Got it." His smile was casual and amiable, an easy gesture of friendship and chivalry. "Where can I take you, then? I am sure you must be ready to return to your family and rest."

He led the way back to the street. As they stepped into the mouth of the market place, a shout erupted over the buzz of the crowd. A group of men wearing the same blue haori forged through the throng, calling Harada's title and asking a barrage of questions. "Hold on a second," he huffed with exasperation, before tugging a man forward and whispering in his ear.

The other Shinsengumi swordsman gaped, his gaze swiveling from his captain, to Chizuru, to the alley from which they'd come, before his mouth formed a tight grimace. He nodded, said "Yes, Captain!" and led the other men into the side street.

Chizuru watched them go, her hand pressed to her chest.

"So? Where are you staying?"

Turning back, she took a long, fortifying breath and said, tentatively, "The inn, but that's where it began. The ambush."

"Oh," he murmured.

"My husband wasn't with me. He had left that morning for a meeting, with Kondo Isami of the Shinsengumi."

Harada had nodded at first, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. At her last words, his brows shot up in surprise. "With the chief? But that's--" He trailed off, eyeing her with speculation now. His sharp gaze lingered on her face for a long moment, before dropping to her hand.

She followed the look and realized her skin was scratched, pink and bleeding. The hay fork must have been old and weathered. She hadn't realized in the moment, but an ache had begun to settle into her palms and feet.

"All right." He stood tall and tied his spear onto the harness strapped across his back. With an encouraging smile, Harada gestured in front of him, his arm lifted ahead of her like a shield. "To our headquarters, then."

She took a step forward, her knees shaking. "Please."

* * *

Chikage was prepared to raze the city until every last vile little human was nothing more than a pile of ashen waste.

On a slanted rooftop of a temple, he stood overlooking the array of houses, shops, and restaurants, his gaze boring into every nook and cranny of the shabby structures. Every now and then, a human would shudder under the full weight of his bloodlust, squirm like the mice they were, and duck into the nearest building, as though paneling would save them should he descend from the hillside. Every second without a sighting or a report stoked his fury and his fear.

Chizuru had been missing for nearly an hour.

His fist clenched tightly, claws digging into his flesh. The other had gripped the hilt of his sword the moment Shiranui had dropped his omen in the courtyard and hadn’t left since. His instincts writhed beneath his skin like caged fire, demanding blood and bone until she had been returned to him, until his wife and their unborn child were safe and under his watch once more.

He should never have left her behind.

Assassins rarely strike in daylight. When they do, they were men with nothing to lose – chaos, destruction, and depravity encased in one disposable meat sack, who’d spend the bloody earnings to drink himself half-dead until the next job came along. Because of that personality failure, they were unlikely to find luck with civilian collaborators – and yet, somehow, this group had managed to sway the proprietor of their inn with nothing more than gold and opportunity.

The expression on the human's face when Chikage had forced him to swallow the gold, only to disembowel him moments later had offered little in the way of satisfaction while Chizuru had not been found.

“Eastern corridor was clear. I’ll head to the south.” Shiranui popped into the corner of his vision before quickly leaving once more to make himself even a little more useful.

It was a wise move – Chikage had nearly slit his throat for losing sight of Chizuru in the first place, but he had stalled his sword and given the demon a chance to redeem himself. At least, redeem himself enough where Chikage won’t feel the urge to kill him on sight.

Jaw clenched tight, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, searching the winds for the scent of her. He could see her face in his mind’s eye, bright and warm and innocent, greeting him that morning with a smile pressed against his lips and her rounded stomach pressed against his chest. An ache awoke in his chest, prickly and caustic, at the thought of any harm coming to her.

He would kill them. Every last member of this ambush, every last conspirator, he would find, relieve them of their traitorous tongues and hands, before tossing their corpses into a lake of fire. Gods help the men who dared touch his wife, for they would find no quarter or mercy on this earth.

“Lord Kazama.”

He turned as Amagiri rose from the shadows below the temple and bowed. “Speak.”

“I have found evidence of the men likely involved in the ambush upon Lady Chizuru.”

“Show me.”

Then they were soaring through the air, little more than flickers of light and wind as they rushed through Kyoto over rooftops and bridges. Chikage noted that they were heading toward the western quarter of the city, not far from the inn itself, and scanned the ground below as they passed. Amagiri slowed just outside of the market. He paused until Chikage dropped down next to him before gesturing to the ground. “Down there.”

The scene needed little introduction. Chikage had smelled the drying blood on the air as they approached, along with the exhuming liquids that proceeded death. Sneering, he dropped down into the alley and sniffed delicately, searching.

There it was. That familiar and beloved scent of blossoms in autumn, herbs and green tea, a light sweetness. _Chizuru_.

Chikage stepped along the path of the scent until he stood in the doorway of the shed, where it pooled heavily along the wall and frame, thick with desperation and fear. She must have hidden herself inside to evade her stalkers. His gaze flitted over the notches buried deep in the door frame, the hay fork on the ground just inside. Forced the door shut, then.

The pools of human remains were outside the shed, their corpses gone. They would have been men with little distinguishing features or accoutrements. Any identification they had brought to enter the city would be a forgery. Chikage walked around the one closest to the door and narrowed his gaze on the pool on the ground. Likely punctured between the ribs, nicked the bottom of the heart from the thick residue of blood down his front. An expert kill.

A weight sunk into his stomach.

Another assassin, unrelated to this crew of sellswords? A skilled warrior who happened to pass by and kill three men out of the good of his heart? A ronin who might demand payment and would resort to other forms of currency if necessary? His mind created as many possibilities as could be inferred from the facts, until he forced himself to focus.

“Lord Kazama, a man from the Shinsengumi approaches.”

Chikage seethed in the back of his throat. He had little time for prattled niceties at the moment. He stalked toward the other two puddles at the back of the alley and considered the arterial spray along the panel, when a human, barely old enough to be called a man, hurtled into the alley. He wore a green set of sleeveless vests, two swords strapped to his belt, and a long trail of chestnut brown hair tied high.

“Oi! We’ve been looking for you!”

“Say what it is you have come to say. Then leave,” murmured Chikage, watching the human with an air of disdain.

The boy looked disgruntled but soldiered on. “There’s a woman back at headquarters. Sano rescued her from this same alley, said her husband would be with the Shinsengumi. Seems to fit— Hey!”

Chikage’s attention had snapped into focus seconds after the boy began his message, and with an arching leap he rose out of the alley and dashed along the rooftops toward the north-eastern corridor. His heard pounded in his chest with aching fervor, his gaze fixed resolutely on the sloping roof of the Shinsengumi residence.

Without pause, Chikage stopped on the outer wall of the temple and scented the air. There. There, she was. His Chizuru.

He flickered through the open spaces of the building before arriving in a small courtyard tucked toward a corner of the residence, where a small pond bubbled lazily in a thicket of bamboo. There, huddled on the porch with an insidious human bent over her, casting her in shadow, was his wife.

For a moment, a haze of red had filled his vision. Strange buzzing filled his ears, interrupted only by a faint gasp of surprise, the heavy grunt of a man in the distance, and then his arms felt full with a warm, familiar weight.

Chikage pressed his face into her neck and breathed deeply. He wrapped himself protectively around her, primal instincts battering at the walls of his sense, urging him to shelter and mark and consume. The urge to bite her on the neck felt nearly insuppressible though he knew that would trigger a frenzy within them both, one that could not occur in a public and hostile environment. Finally. _Finally, she was by his side_.

Chizuru melted against him, a muffled sob pressed into his chest. He could smell blood on her, fear and adrenaline and another scent, one he had never known from her before. A hot, metallic scent, not unlike blood or steel, but tinged with a pungent coil of her natural scent. _Demon transformation_.

Chizuru had experienced a full transformation of her blood, the ultimate gift of her heritage, that day. In defense of their child?

Chikage pressed his nose closer to the pulse point on her neck where the scent lingered like a deadly, enticing perfume. _Fascinating_. Pure-blooded, female demons were rarely known to transform into warrior form the way their male counterparts could, but it wasn’t completely unheard of. Now that he thought about it, the stories had similar themes- when they or a clan member were in mortal danger.

“Chizuru,” he soothed, one hand rising to cradle the back of her head. “Finally.”

“I’m fine. We’re both fine.” Her words were hushed and thick, sticking slightly as they whispered from her throat. Her arms had wrapped around his back to hold him as close as possible, their child pressed snug and safe between them. "You must have been worried. I'm sorry."

He huffed, gently scolding. "Do not apologize for the audacity of dogs barking at their betters." Leaning back just enough to see her face, Chikage rested their brows together and held her gaze. "I should have never left you there with only Shiranui to guard you. An oversight that will not happen again, I assure you, Chizuru."

She frowned. "Kyo did what he could. There were," she paused and shivered, "more than we could have handled, given the circumstances."

So it might have been. Little place to run, other humans muddling the situation by hovering outside of harm's way. The inn proprietors who had betrayed them, who knew every exit from the building and sold that for a meager sum. Chikage felt his rage at Shiranui abading slightly.

Her eyes, heavy and sweet as summer honey, reflected the trauma of the day: exhaustion, lingering paranoia, and bone deep relief that they were together once more. Chikage caressed her cheek with his thumb and murmured, "Let us return home."

She blinked. "But your meeting with the Shinsengumi - are you finished?"

"All that must be done has concluded. The details are beneath us."

"Beneath you, huh," drawled a voice nearby, several paces to the left. The human who had loomed over Chizuru had recovered from his sudden sojourn into the pond. "Man, you really don't hold back, do you? In more ways than one."

Chizuru startled in his arms, leaning away to stare over his shoulder with a stricken expression. "Harada-san, are you all right?"

'Harada' twisted burnished red hair between his hands and peeled the sides of his haori from his chest. Though he grinned at Chizuru, his gaze bored with cold irritation on Chikage. "I'm fine. Little punch like that's not enough to take me out of the battle." He rolled his shoulders and widened his stance, a deceptive ease loosening his frame. "I take it this guy's your husband?"

"Yes." She bowed hastily, shooting a slightly reproachful look at him. "I hope you can forgive Chikage's force. It's been a rather stressful day for the both of us."

"Huh." Harada's sharp gaze lingered on Chikage's expression as though searching for a hint of regret. He would find none - the demon cared little for the wellbeing of humans, particularly when said human had encroached upon his wife's space, infringing upon territory that belonged to Chikage. "I suppose I can understand that. Had I a beautiful, pregnant wife under threat, I'd beat the fools senseless too."

She blushed slightly at the human's compliment, shifting uncomfortably.

Chikage reconsidered his decision to remove the irritant from this life, permanently.

A familiar hand slipped into his, their fingers entwining. "Chikage, this is Harada Sanosuke." She paused and offered Harada a shy smile before meeting Chikage's gaze. "He saved me. When the swordsmen chased me down an alley, he--subdued the men and brought me here, to where you would be."

She pleaded with him for a moment, wordlessly asking him to be considerate of the man and what he had done for them, until Chikage felt the prideful resistance in his chest crumbling. Tugging her back into his chest, his hand slipping into the soft weight of her hair on the back of her neck, Chikage shot the human a look of begrudging respect.

"Kazama Chikage, lord of the Kazama clan." His eyes narrowed on the Shinsengumi man, flashing gold in the light of the evening sun. "For your bravery and service to my wife, I am grateful."

Harada looked at him for a moment before smirking, as though he understood the cut to Chikage's pride that he was forced to thank another man for a duty that was solely, rightfully his. "Harada Sanosuke, tenth captain of the Shinsengumi. I'd never abandon a woman in need. Your thanks is unnecessary, though I could have done without the punch." He rubbed his side pointedly.

Chikage smirked.

"Sano! You back there?"

Instinctively, Chikage swept his wife into his arms, her slight form tucked into his chest, before vaulting back onto the compound wall as a group of humans turned the corner of the courtyard and approached at pace, their hands grasped around the hilt of their swords. Chizuru gasped, her arms slipping around his neck.

The one he recognized as Hijikata drew to a halt next to Harada and glared up at them, his face lined with sweat. "Oh, you returned." His gaze fell to Chizuru, who peered back curiously from their perch. "And that must be the wife. So you found her, then."

"Commander," Harada nodded as he threw his wet mane of hair back and leaned against his spear, though Chikage could feel the weight of his attention. "I found her just off the eastern market place. My men brought the corpses back for inspection. Shinpachi left with his to inspect the inn and bring back the proprietor for interrogation."

"Wasted effort," scoffed Chikage, his gaze never wavering from Hijikata. "That worm has been disposed of."

The Shinsengumi's commander glowered, fury burning hot in his unusual eyes, before he visibly forced his temper to cool. "I see. I suppose you've left the mess for us to clean up as well, then."

Chikage saw little point in responding to a question surely rhetorical. Let the rats and pests eat away at the corpse where it lay, for all he cared. Dead animals deserved no burial.

"Amagiri will return to settle the final arrangements for the summit. We will take our leave of this wretched place." His grip tightened on Chizuru's back and knees as the power of his noble blood was called to the surface. Below, the humans jerked into motion, running toward the wall on which they stood.

"Wait--Our Chief would like--"

Soundless, Chikage lifted them from the wall and began flitting across the eaves and rooftops of Kyoto, Chizuru held securely in his arms. She leaned into him as the wind buffeted their bodies, her mouth pressed tight. Moving at this speed, with her delicate constitution, brought her nausea. He ensured that they were well cleared of the Shinsengumi headquarters before slowing his pace enough that she could ease her eyes open and her skin lost its green pallor.

"Chikage, please," she said, her hand grasping the front of his _haori_. "We must go back! It's dreadfully rude to leave like that. I haven't had a chance to thank Harada-san or the Shinsengumi properly."

"No."

Little fires appeared in her honeyed gaze, and her expression grew stony. He knew, with a sinking feeling, that she would dig her heels in on the matter. "You can't just--"

" _Later_ ," he interrupted roughly, hard enough that she startled.

He gritted his teeth and turned his face away, burned by the protective fury, the fear, the _shame_ that thickened his throat and constricted his chest. "Later, we will return."

"Chikage?" Her voice gentled with concern.

He met her gaze with the full force of the storm that raged inside his soul, a thicket of paranoia and a thousand nightmarish futures that might have been. Immediately, her hand sought his cheek, her eyes widening with understanding, shared fears and desperation, and a fierce love that burned bright.

"For now, away from all others, let me rest assured that you are safe," he murmured, his head bent low toward her. "Let me shelter you, Chizuru. _Please_."

After a moment, she drew him further down and pressed the most tender of kisses to his lips. "I understand, Chikage." She smiled against him, her body a warm and comforting weight in his arms. Precious. Irreplaceable. He had nearly lost this small, rare peace that he had found, and the knowledge shook him to his core.

"Let's go."


End file.
